Love
by Pearl For Katniss
Summary: "Love is finally realizing that you and I would have ended up together eventually." Katniss and Peeta discuss the topic of love and what it means to them. Post-Mockingjay. One-shot.


Gentle fingers trace patterns on my skin as his lips meld together with mine. Peeta has a way of stealing my thoughts, my words with his sweet kisses until all I can think about is him. He treats me as if I'm the most precious person in the world, even though his unwavering affection for me constantly reminds me that I don't deserve him. "Stop it," I scold him once we break apart. "I have to go hunting before it gets too late."

"Admit it, you would rather stay in bed with me all day." Before I can respond, Peeta's lips cover mine again, kissing me, loving me. His hand slips under my shirt and he rubs the skin around my bellybutton, smirking when I let out a little moan. I reach up to wrap my arms around his torso, pulling him closer to me until his body is covering my own. "I love you," he murmurs against my lips.

There's that word again. Love. I can't count how many times he has said that to me without ever hearing me say it back. Peeta assures me that I don't need to repeat the words back to him, but I feel terrible that I can't even tell him how much he means to me. He deserves someone who can tell him how special he is, not someone who fails to get those three little words passed her lips. Perhaps I can never say it because I don't really understand what love is. "Peeta, what is love?"

His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he studies my face for a clue as to why I am asking him such a question. When it becomes clear that I'm serious, Peeta is silent for a long time, choosing his words carefully. "It's different for everyone." The fact that he didn't answer my question isn't lost on me. He doesn't want me to feel pressured into returning his feelings.

Frustrated, I wiggle out of his embrace and scoot as far away from his as possible without falling of the bed. He watches me with a worried expression on his face but doesn't make a move to follow me. "Then what is it to you?"

He doesn't hesitate to answer my question this time around. "Love is taking a beating from my mother in order to give you those two loaves of bread." My jaw drops in shock. That wasn't the answer I was expecting. Peeta knew that I was starving and chose to save my life out of the kindness of his heart. I wouldn't be here now if he hadn't given me the bread that fed my family.

"Love is risking my life to protect you from Cato." If Peeta hadn't been my district partner, would anyone else have sacrificed their life to protect me? Probably not. Peeta was willing to die for me because his feelings for me were real. His affection was never a strategy for the Games, and I feel bad for using him and then breaking his heart once the Games were over.

"Love is sleeping with you on the train and not expecting anything more from you." I've never thought much about it before, but would I have shared a bed with a boy if that boy hadn't been Peeta? Of course not. Anyone else would have taken advantage of me, and then I would be more broken than I already am. I was absolutely sure that Peeta would never use me like I meant nothing to him. He would never do that to anyone, let alone the person he loves.

"Love is warning you about the attack on District 13." All I remember about that day is the brutal beating that Peeta took on live television. He must have suffered unspeakable torture in order to warn me about the bombs, and I never once thanked him for his sacrifice. Once he was recued, I treated him so horribly over something that wasn't even his fault. It's not like he wanted to be tortured, or hijacked, or try to kill me.

He opens his arms for me and I crawl into them, snuggling as close to him as physically possible. I tuck my head under his chin and press my lips to his neck, kissing him there. He whimpers softly and holds me close, his fingers caressing the skin on my back. "Katniss?" he asks nervously, swallowing hard. "What is love to you?"

I should have expected that from him. Should have expected that he doesn't think I care about him at all. The tone of his voice, the timid way he is looking at me now is further proof of how much I have hurt him in the past. I can't let him continue to believe that I don't love him. He has to know. He deserves to know.

"Love is not wanting to leave the arena without you." The words are barely out of my mouth when I realize just how true they are. There was never any other option for me. I was either going to come home with Peeta or die with him in the arena. I had opened up to him, found in him a friend and a trusted ally. How could I leave him behind to save myself? I would have eaten those berries without a second thought had there been no way for us both to live.

"Love is begging Haymitch to help me save your life in the Quarter Quell." My version of love involves me giving my life to protect those I care about. I volunteered for Prim. I was willing to die for Peeta in the Quell. Everyone who I deem worthy of my affection is more precious to me than my own life. It just took me a long time to realize how much I truly care about Peeta.

"Love is missing you so badly when you were taken away from me that I would fall asleep with your pearl in my pocket." I remember kissing his pearl and wishing desperately that I could kiss him again. That's when I knew that my feelings for him were real. That's when I knew that I loved him. My heart still aches with pain so fresh and deep whenever I think about our time apart that I have to block it from my mind. We're together now. Peeta has returned to me, and we'll never be apart again.

There is a goofy smile on his face as he sinks down onto the bed and cradles me on top of him. I use my thumb to wipe away the tears that have gathered on his cheek and press my forehead against his, enjoying the feeling of him underneath me. Peeta was right. I would much rather spend the day in bed with him. "Love is finally realizing that you and I would have ended up together eventually."

His eyes are as wide as saucers when those last few words slip out of my mouth. "Katniss?" he asks, his breath caressing my face. "Do you love me?"

"I do," I admit, entwining my fingers with his. "Very much."


End file.
